


Not Quite Disney Princes, But a Love Story All the Same

by sperrywink



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, NCIS
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Harvey Specter borrowed from Suits, M/M, dialogue lifted from CACW, soulmate bonds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-11-14 03:11:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18044372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sperrywink/pseuds/sperrywink
Summary: post-TWS Bucky staggers away after the fall of the helicarrier and tries to vanish. In his flight, he encounters Tony DiNozzo and the unexpected happens.





	Not Quite Disney Princes, But a Love Story All the Same

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dine/gifts).



> Thank you, Dine, for your patience in waiting for this story. Your silent support was very welcome. I hope you enjoy it!

Was he Bucky? Was he the Asset? Who was he? Was he a who or a weapon? As he got further and further away from his mission, even as he planned his next steps, his thoughts circled again and again. He knew he wouldn’t discover the answer if he returned to his rendezvous point. He would be the Asset and that’s all he would ever be. Some part of him was comforted by that idea, but the part that had responded to his mission’s pleas was growing louder and louder and demanding that he find out the truth instead of acquiescing like he had done for… well, he wasn’t for sure how long.

He wouldn’t ignore that part any longer, and with the chaos around, he didn’t have to. So, he focused on what he would need in order to go into hiding. New clothes, papers, medical care, temporary shelter and food, and a way to hide his metal arm so he could blend in.

Reaching the road, it was simple enough even in his condition to appropriate a vehicle from a gawking bystander and drive to a safe house he knew had papers and assorted other necessities. Abandoning the car about two blocks away, he cased out the safe house. It was one of the lesser used ones and wasn’t likely to be the first place anyone looked for him. 

After verifying that it was empty, he electronically killed the keypad reader, and broke in via the backdoor. He didn’t want a record of his entry being sent anywhere. He found the necessary papers to get him out of the country, and after doing some basic first aid, although he couldn’t set his dislocated shoulder, he changed his clothes for a generic pair of pants and army jacket he found in the closet. Then he booked it out of there with all the cash in the place.

There was always the chance someone would eventually look for him there, and he wanted to be far away by the time that happened. The safe house was in a busy neighborhood, and a lot of people were out gawking and gossiping, so he slid through the crowd easily, avoiding cameras and snatching a ballcap along the way.

He walked for hours, making tracks away from the safehouse, cutting across alleys, jumping across roofs and fire escapes, and taking random buses. He knew he wouldn’t make it out of D.C. With the state of emergency, there were too much suspicion and paranoia, but he could at least confound anyone trying to follow him.

Finally, his dislocated shoulder started slowing down his reaction times and making him too tired to carry forward, so he began looking for a place to rest knowing he was a good ten miles from the safe house. He found an apartment building and began climbing the fire escape silently, checking windows as he passed undetected by the occupants. 

It was getting colder, but it was springtime and it shouldn’t get below freezing, so although he would prefer to be holed up inside somewhere, he headed up to the roof. As he slipped over the edge and fell silently onto his toes with his back against the half wall, he heard a cough.

Surprised, he tensed and turned towards the sound. It was a guy about six feet tall in sweats and a hoodie holding a brown beer bottle. He had obviously been leaning against the wall watching the Potomac burn, but now he was totally focused on… him, the Asset, Bucky, whoever he was. He was definitely off his game if he hadn’t noticed the guy was there.

The guy said, “I feel the need to inform you that I’m a federal agent, and this is a bad night to be skulking around roofs. I don’t have much patience after the last couple days of craziness.”

His foggy brain searching for an answer, his gaze went back and forth between the fire escape and the federal agent. He might be able to make it off the roof, but it was unlikely he would make it to the ground without an alarm being raised. As the federal agent took a step forward, he made up his mind and leaped and barreled into him. The bottle dropped from the guy’s grasp and the smell of hops filled the air.

An intense fight ensued. His dislocated shoulder was a problem and kept allowing the federal agent to get the upper hand momentarily before his metal arm would then subdue him again. Finally, he got a solid grip around the guy’s throat, and slammed him down onto the ground with the full force in his metal arm. 

The federal agent seemed to realize this was now a life or death situation because he could see the panic blooming in his bulging eyes. The guy had one hand scrambling at his metal arm, while the other floundered uselessly. He tightened his grip. The floundering hand latched onto his useless arm and pulled, making him hiss from the pain. Seeing an obvious opening, the federal agent yanked, and he moved with the pull as his teeth gritted in surprise and pain.

The federal agent’s hand had slipped down his sleeve, until it got a good grip on his bare hand. The second their flesh touched, electricity danced between their hands, and it was like that same electricity was burning through his brain. With a hiss, his grip released on the guy’s throat and he scrambled back, ending up against the perpendicular wall. Lightening was still dancing around his palm and he stared at it in fascination. “What did you do to me?”

The federal agent was gasping on the ground and watching him in bewilderment. Lightening danced around his palm too. He rasped out, “I don’t speak Russian, but if you said something along the lines of what the fuck, I totally agree.”

Frowning, he searched his brain for the right language. It still felt fried, although the fire was calming down. With more venom, he asked again, “What did you do to me?”

The federal agent was slowly sitting up. He looked as rattled as Bucky(?) felt. As the electricity simmered down, shockingly he felt more like a person than the Asset. Like Bucky. As the federal agent started talking, he was distracted by that feeling of personhood. It was like ice water was draining from his mind and body. The clarity was startling in its intensity. The guy was saying, “And I don’t speak whatever language that is either. Try English, Spanish, or Italian. I will say this, it’s totally my kind of luck that the homeless looter with the terminator arm that almost succeeds in killing me is my soulmate. What the ever-loving fuck?”

Bucky’s attention snapped back to the federal agent, as the guy shifted to his knees, with one hand leaning against the wall as the other soothed his throat. Bucky bared his teeth. In clipped tones he asked again, “What. Did. You. Do. To. Me.”

He guessed he finally spoke a language the guy understood, because the guy choked out an incredulous laugh. “What did I do to you? You almost killed me!”

Bucky got his feet under him and crouched down. The federal agent held out a pleading hand, making Bucky pause. “Look, I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt _despite all evidence to the contrary_. I can’t believe my soulmate is a bad guy. Why don’t we start over? I’m Tony DiNozzo, and you’re in trouble, right? Let me see if I can help, and let’s not jump right back to the choking part of the program. I’m as kinky as the next guy, but autoerotic asphyxiation has never been my jam.”

Totally confused by the guy’s conversation, Bucky still paused. He could see the bruises blooming on the guy’s, Tony’s, throat, and for some reason he felt rising emotions. Remorse, maybe? Add this to his continued confusion as to what Tony had done to him, and he wanted answers more than he wanted to escape or to eliminate the problem. Latching onto the word Tony used before, Bucky asked, “Soulmates?”

Tony gave him a disbelieving look and waggled his palm at him. “Lightening when we first touched naked flesh to naked flesh ring any bells?”

Bucky searched his brain. His thoughts felt clearer and sharper, but he still only got flashes of anything that had happened before yesterday. He remembered ice, and different electricity frying his brain, and his mission, and “‘til the end of the line,” but nothing about soulmates. But if Tony believed it, maybe he would help and maybe Bucky wouldn’t have to kill him before he left. For some reason that thought made him feel better.

He frowned at Tony.

Tony frowned back at him. “Where exactly are you from? How can you not know that? And can we take this inside? I’m beginning to stiffen up out here from the cold. I also suspect you don’t want to be exposed.”

Making a snap decision, knowing he could get the upper hand again if needed, Bucky nodded his acquiescence. Tony released a breath and headed for the stairwell that led into the building. He was limping, and moving stiffly, so Bucky guessed it wasn’t all a ploy to get him inside, although he would be on guard just in case.

As they descended the stairs, Bucky wracked his brain for any information on soulmates. It was like pushing against a bruise. There was something there, but it wouldn’t crystallize. Tony unlocked a door to the right of the stairwell on the top floor and waved for Bucky to go inside. Knowing that this would be a prime opportunity for betrayal, Bucky flicked out a knife and cautiously entered the apartment, sliding along the wall as he cased the place.

There were no sounds, and no signs of anyone else, and Tony said, “It’s just us, for better or worse. I’m taking a huge risk here; hopefully you won’t let me down.” He slumped onto the couch.

Keeping a wary eye on Tony, Bucky searched the apartment. No one else was there, and Tony never left the couch, where he just sat with his head lolling back. When Bucky glanced into the kitchen, he said, “Get me a bag of frozen peas, yeah? Hopefully I can get the swelling down.”

Bucky gave him a look and returned his knife to his holster. Considering Tony’s voice was still a raspy mess, he opened the freezer and found a bag of peas that he tossed to him. Easily catching them one-handed, Tony nodded his thanks, and put the peas on his throat. Bucky took out a bag for his dislocated arm, and went and leaned on the piano, holding it to his shoulder. He asked, “We’re soulmates?”

“Yeah. That’s what that whole fireworks between our palms thing was about. Seriously, how can you not know this?”

Bucky shrugged. He wasn’t, couldn’t go into things he didn’t understand himself. Seeing how far he could push, he asked, “Will you reset my arm?”

“Are you going to kill me once I do?”

“Not planning on it at the moment.” 

Tony said, “That’s not exactly reassuring,” but he put the peas on the arm of the couch and stood up, motioning to Bucky to turn to the side. “You’re lucky I took first aid and have my Phys. Ed. Degree, terminator. I actually feel confident I can do this. There’s no way I’m bringing Ducky or Jimmy into this clusterfuck of a situation.”

As Tony straightened his arm and took a solid grip on it, Bucky tensed, more from feeling vulnerable than the pain. He watched Tony closely, but he just saw exhaustion there. With a rotating click, and a shit-ton of excruciating pain which Bucky gritted his teeth and groaned through, Tony maneuvered his arm back into the socket. Once it snapped back into place, the pain decreased rapidly to a dull roar, and Bucky slumped in relief.

Tony patted Bucky’s stomach and then stumbled back to the couch and his bag of peas. Bucky put his own bag of peas back on his shoulder and considered Tony. He knew the risk Tony had taken giving him back functionality, which contrarily made him feel protective of Tony and his stupidity. He frowned, confused.

“None of that, terminator-frowny-face, we’re both as good as we’re going to get. Now, while I would love to gossip and braid our hair and even find out your name, I have to be back at work in less than five hours since we’re doing double shifts with the clusterfuck happening out there, and this is my first shot at sleep in over thirty. So, if you aren’t going to kill me, I’d like to go to bed for a bit. Are you going to kill me? And are you going to be here when I wake up?”

Bucky considered the questions seriously. He didn’t want to kill Tony. If he was his soulmate, as crazy as that seemed that he would have something (someone) like that, he kind of wanted to savor the feeling and not destroy it. He felt like he had been about destruction long enough. He might not remember much, but he remembered his purpose. But he definitely didn’t trust Tony; he didn’t trust anyone, but he did need the rest too. So, he said, “I’m not going to kill you, and yeah I’ll be here until then.”

“Alright if I go into the bedroom?”

“Where’s your phone?”

Tony waved towards the bowl by the door, where Bucky could see keys and the aforementioned phone. Tony continued with, “The gun safe is in the bedroom, but I have a vested interest in keeping you alive, so you’re going to have to trust me there.”

Tony heaved himself up off the couch with a groan, and then shuffled into the bedroom. Bucky followed, frowning again. Tony took off his hoodie, dropping it onto the dresser, and immediately crawled between the covers. “Wake me in four hours, yeah?”

Still frowning, Bucky nodded. Tony just sighed and closed his eyes and between one blink and the next he seemed to fall asleep. Bucky settled into a crouch in the corner, and let his own body relax. He didn’t need sleep desperately, but he could use a cat nap or two.

Four hours of quiet later, and maybe two hours of sleep for Bucky, Bucky wondered how to wake Tony up. He had heard the gurgle of a coffeemaker starting (he had actually rechecked the apartment for intruders at the sudden sound, but it seemed to be on a timer). Anyway, back to Tony. He felt weird saying his name in the quiet gloom of the early morning, and even weirder at the thought of touching him again. In the end, he kicked the bed a couple of times, and Tony stirred, mumbling, “Whatzzit?”

“It’s been four hours.”

Tony groaned. “Fuck me; I’m still so tired. And I have a soulmate who’s a terminator. Fuck me again.”

Unsure what to do now that Tony was awake, Bucky retreated to the corner, and watched him as he stumbled into the bathroom. He heard him take a piss, and then the shower turned on, and Bucky frowned. He was expecting more concern from Tony. He didn’t know if he liked how cavalier Tony was being about Bucky being here. He felt proprietary about Tony, about having a soulmate, and he didn’t want Tony to die out of carelessness.

The water shut off, and Tony came out with a towel wrapped around his middle. His body had mottled bruises all over it from their fight, but it was especially lurid around his neck. Bucky wanted to wince but he didn’t understand the emotion behind it, so he frowned instead.

Tony just sighed at him hovering in the corner, and asked, “Coffee?”

Bucky nodded, and followed Tony into the kitchen where Tony began pouring two cups of coffee and took the milk out of the fridge. Adding milk and sugar, Tony said, “I like mine light and sweet, how about you?”

Unsure about having an opinion, Bucky asked, “I don’t know?”

Snorting, Tony just handed over the un-doctored cup, and said, “Figures.”

Putting the milk away, Tony opened a white bag on the counter, and took out two muffins. “Corn or banana nut?”

“Corn?” He didn’t know what to make of Tony.

Tony handed over the bright yellow muffin, and took bite out of the other one, making a pleased sound. They ate standing there at the kitchen counter, drinking their coffees, staring at each other. Bucky didn’t know what to make of Tony’s expression, but he couldn’t look away.

Finally finishing, Tony turned to put his cup in the sink, and rested his palms on the rim of the sink, looking away from Bucky for the first time. “So, you’re not going to be here when I get back, huh?”

“No.”

“Can I at least get a name?”

And that was the kicker. Bucky felt more like a person, like the Bucky the mission had called him, but he didn’t know if that was who he was. He couldn’t remember being anything other than the Asset, even if he felt different now. In the end, in the questioning tone he was beginning to hate, he asked, “Bucky?”

Tony turned back towards him sharply but slumped at the look on Bucky’s face. He had no idea what expression he wore, but it seemed to dispirit Tony for a second, before Tony straightened up and clapped his hands lightly. “Good enough. So, I’m going to get dressed, unlock my gun, and get my phone to go to work. I would offer to help you out, since I am still a federal agent with connections here, but I get the feeling you won’t take me up on it.”

Bucky frowned harder and shook his head no.

“That being the case, do you need anything? Food, clothes, money?”

Without his permission, Bucky’s gaze drifted to the white bakery bag. Tony laughed lightly, “Good muffins, right? You’re in luck, I bought half a dozen.” Tony rolled the top of the paper bag and put it in a second, plastic bag, then carried it towards the bedroom. 

He said, “Let’s get you some other clothes and I have a spare duffel bag. I think I have some stuff that’ll fit you.” 

Tony packed some clothes in a small duffel and ended with the bag of muffins on top. Bucky just watched him, mystified. As he packed, Tony lightly said, “I’d make a joke about ‘I’ll be back,’ but I’m not confident that is the case. Which is also my shitty luck.”

Tony then ditched the towel and started getting dressed. Bucky was itching to go but was unsure how to go about it. Meeting Tony was like nothing he had ever experienced before, he was sure of it. He inched towards the duffel bag, and Tony caught the movement. Now dressed, except for socks, he said, “Let me show you out.”

Bucky picked up the duffel and followed Tony to the door. Tony unlocked the door, but didn’t open it, he just rapped lightly on it twice, and then turned around. “We’ve only touched in violence, so I’m going to hug you now so that we end on a good note. Don’t kill me.”

And then to Bucky’s utter shock, Tony carefully and slowly wrapped his arms around him. He didn’t know what to make of it, but it felt… nice. Tony whispered in his ear, “Take care of yourself,” and then kissed his temple. He felt that same spark dance in his brain at the kiss. He wondered if that would always happen. He liked it now. He liked how it seemed to melt more of the ice in his brain.

Eventually the hug was over, and Tony was opening the door, and Bucky slid out and into the stairwell to avoid detection by any of Tony’s neighbors.  
  
  
  


* * *

* * *

  
  
  
  
As he circled D.C. leaving false trails over the next couple days, he noticed advertisements for the Captain America exhibit at the Smithsonian. Wondering about the personhood that meeting Tony had cemented for him, he slipped into the exhibit a couple days later, and stared at his own face. It wasn’t as much of a shock as it would have been without Tony’s electricity still clearing the fog from his brain. He might not remember much yet, still just flashes and faces, but remembering everything felt like a possibility now.

He also hit up a library, once he remembered what they were, to research soulmates. They were a real phenomenon, although only about 40% of people met their soulmates. It mentioned the dancing lightening when they first touched flesh to flesh, and there were whole books devoted to anecdotal stories about how soulmates met and touched for the first time. It was considered a great boon to have found your soulmate, and there were even theories that people who found their soulmates were favored and special. That they were better people than average, more decent. 

Remembering what Bucky did of the Asset’s actions, he didn’t believe that, at least for himself, but it did hearten him. Maybe he could become a good man on the strength of the connection with Tony. He could hope at least.

A part of him was wanting to go back to Tony’s apartment and burrow into his life, but Bucky knew there was too much danger for him to do that. He would protect Tony and what he represented with everything he had, because weapons didn’t have soulmates, people did. What Tony represented meant the world to him.

So, once he left enough false trails to confuse even the most dedicated tracker, he found work on a trawler to Greece to get out of the country, and after leaving even more false trails once in Europe, he then made his way to Bucharest, finally stopping there.

It was almost a year since SHIELD and Hydra crumbled together, and Bucky stopped being the Asset. The ice capturing his brain felt like it was melting more every day, but certain situations, like nightmares and gunshots, emphasized it and the Asset tried to rise again. But the more time passed, the more that being the Asset felt like giving up, and the easier it got to resist. Whenever he did he felt the ghost of Tony’s electricity dancing in his brain. It always felt good, like a victory. Still, he didn’t know if the Asset would ever be gone. It was like icebergs in his heart, too massive to ever go away, but he felt more like a person every day despite them.

He knew Steve was looking for him. He knew Tony wasn’t. He didn’t know how he felt about either of those things. He just felt that he had to figure himself out on his own. It wasn’t, he wasn’t safe for anyone else. Not right now. Maybe not ever.

He didn’t look into Tony, that felt too much like putting him in danger, and he was too precious to Bucky to be risked, but he did continue his study of Steve, or rather Captain America, who continued to be in the news periodically. Each new article or mention awoke new memories of their past. Even so, it was slow going. The memories seemed sticky, unwilling to surface. It took months for a pre-Asset memory to surface and he spent weeks examining each one in depth, analyzing them in a notebook. 

New memories of his time as the Asset were freer and rose easily every day. He often woke up stumbling to the bathroom to throw up as the memories came to him in dreams as he slept. He knew they were all true, if horrifying, although he stopped verifying them after the first month. 

So, some days he worked on knowing himself and discovering who he was and who he wanted to be, and some days he just breathed through the horror. In particular he took Tony’s directive to “take care of yourself” as a core sentiment and driving force. Some days he didn’t want to get out of bed or just wanted to give up, but he didn’t because of Tony. He wanted to be worthy of having a soulmate, of being Tony’s soulmate.

Another year or so more passed like this. Slow and plodding, always on guard, but feeling more comfortable every day. More like Bucky every day. Or just _someone_ who could be Bucky.

Then the Sokovia Accord meeting was bombed in Vienna, and a day later when he was out buying food from the farmer’s market, he saw the looks and knew his gig was up. Making his way to the newspaper booth, he saw the Asset’s name and knew it was all going to come crashing down around him, even as he made his way back to his apartment and his go-bag. 

Steve was there, of course. 

He didn’t know what to say to him, so he played dumb, as his mind whirled with contingency plans. He could hear the SWAT teams getting into place. He stared at Steve, even as his mind plotted. Go-bag. Roof. Escape.

Once the fight started, he was afraid the Asset would take over and he would lose everything, but he remained in control the whole time. It felt weird and yet oddly right to depend on Steve, so subconsciously he didn’t hesitate, which even as he jumped to the next roof, he promised himself to analyze later.

Then they were captured and Bucky was placed in a reinforced cage, and he felt resigned and trapped. He was at least thankful they didn’t know about Tony.

And then the interrogator came and started asking questions until the overhead lights went out, and the red emergency lights came on. The interrogator’s demeanor changed, and Bucky felt a frisson of fear. The guy said, “Why don’t we talk about your home? I don’t mean Romania or certainly not Brooklyn, no. I mean your real home?” And then he showed the red book, and Bucky’s mind whited out in terror.

As the guy read out the commands Bucky remembered, Bucky knew he needed to escape before he finished. He refused to be a weapon again. Fearing the icebergs he knew still hovered in his heart, Bucky began struggling and punching the glass. Finally breaking free of the cage, falling onto his hands and knees on the last word “Freight car,” Bucky waited for the ice to overcome his mind. 

And waited.

The guy asked, “Soldat?”

And miraculously Bucky was still Bucky. 

The ice remained only in his memories. Tony’s electricity danced in his brain again, saving him like it had so many times before. He looked up into the guy’s face, and said, “You wish,” gripping his throat and slamming him down on the floor. He snarled, “Who are you? Where did you get that book?”

He loosened his grip, but the guy just glared and shouted in Russian, “Longing, Rusted, Seven-,” until Bucky cut him off again. He knew he had to make a choice. Escape or find out what was going on. Luckily, he decided to stay, because even before he could ask his questions again, Steve came barreling into the room with soldiers who all cocked their guns at him. Holding out his hands in a stopping gesture, Steve said, “Bucky!”

Bucky gritted his teeth and glared. “Where did he get that book? What are they trying to do to me?”

“What book? Bucky, you gotta let him go.” More people crowded into the room, including more soldiers.

He replied, “The book that activates the Asset,” but feeling more confident with Tony’s electricity still whispering in his brain, he let the guy go and stepped back.

The guy gasped for a second but didn’t start reciting the commands again. Bucky assumed it was because he knew he wouldn’t get any farther than he did the first or second time. He glared at the guy but didn’t say anything as one of the soldiers came reluctantly forward to restrain him. At least Steve restrained the interrogator.  
  
  
  


* * *

* * *

  
  
  
  
He ended up in a cell for days, and no one would tell him anything. He wasn’t exactly surprised by the imprisonment, and he stayed mostly because Steve pleaded with him to give him time to fix things. He doubted Steve could fix the last seventy years, but he was willing to give him the chance. It seemed like the least he could do for Steve after avoiding him for the last couple years. He was beginning to feel guilty about that.

Finally, under heavy guard, he was taken to an interview room. The guards led him into the room, but then left him alone with Steve and a frowning man in a fancy black suit. Silently, Bucky sat down opposite them and waited.

Steve asked, “How you holding up, Buck?”

“Fine.” Bucky had been in worse conditions, a lot worse. He found that people seemed even more scared of him now that they knew he had his faculties than they had been the first day when he was assumed to be the Winter Soldier.

“We found out who that guy was. His name is Helmut Zemo. He’s the one who blew up the Accords.”

“I figured. What did he want? Besides me?”

“He wouldn’t say. But he was a Sokovian intelligence officer who lost his family under Ultron’s attack. He’s still… bitter about the Avengers.”

“So, he wanted to frame me, and use me for revenge.”

“That’s what we deduced too. We don’t know how he got that book. He wouldn’t tell us.”

Bucky nodded. “What now?”

Steve exchanged glances with the guy in the suit, and then sighed. “It’s still not good.”

“I never figured it would be.” Bucky smiled grimly. 

“They want to prosecute you in the International Criminal Court for war crimes for what the Winter Soldier did under Hydra’s control. I’m fighting them on it, but in the meantime, I’ve gotten you a lawyer. This is Harvey Specter.”

Harvey said, “It’s good to meet you, Bucky. We have a lot to cover.” He took out a legal pad and a pen.

Bucky said, “I don’t see why. I did it all.”

Harvey asked, “So, you remember everything?”

“More every day but seems like the majority of it. The earlier memories are coming back slower.”

Steve leaned forward and beamed at him. “So, you do remember me.”

Unwilling to let that stand unequivocally, Bucky said, “Much less so, I only remember some stuff from before I was captured.” He didn’t mention that the memories of his time before being the Asset seemed to be coming unstuck more easily given his current contact with Steve, so his brain was processing them instead of Asset memories, which was a relief. He hadn’t had a nightmare since his incarceration. He knew it wouldn’t last, but he would take it for as long as possible.

“Before we get sidetracked,” Harvey interjected, “Let’s start at the beginning. Also, do you want Steve to stay? As you are my client, Steve has no say.”

Bucky could see Steve was bursting to plead to stay, although he remained silent. Thinking it over, knowing that Steve likely knew everything already from the dump of Hydra information, he said, “Steve can stay.”

Steve slumped in relief and smiled at him.

Harvey just nodded, and continued, “All right, let’s start with what matters for the prosecution. Do you remember getting captured?”

“Yes, in flashes. I mostly remember pain and cold.” Harvey then teased out as many details as Bucky could bear sharing about his capture, torture, and the subsequent actions of the Asset. This took daily meetings for a number of weeks to cover as much as Bucky remembered. In the meantime, the prosecution was building their case, and getting a trial set as soon as possible. They seemed to realize the quicker they moved, the less time Bucky had to escape.

Harvey pointed out again and again that there was only one real avenue of defense- the brainwashing and torture. They needed to convince the judges that his handlers bore the responsibility for his actions since he couldn’t be responsible for himself. 

Throwing down his pen, Harvey glared at Bucky. He said, “The only problem with our defense is how are you able to resist the brainwashing now? They will use your resistance to Zemo’s commands as proof you could have resisted the earlier brainwashing. So far, you’ve been dancing around how that happened, but you’re going to have to come clean if you want us to help you.”

Bucky tightened his lips and said nothing. He knew what it was of course, but he didn’t want to bring the grief of his life into Tony’s. Even with their brief interaction, Tony was Bucky’s to protect, even if it was from Bucky.

Steve leaned forward intently. “Come on, Bucky. You gotta let us help you. From what you’ve said, I helped interrupt the programming, but I didn’t break it. Something else happened. You just gotta say.”

Bucky shook his head and stood up, banging on the door to return to his cell. As he was led from the room, Harvey yelled, “You’ll have to tell us eventually.”

As far as Bucky was concerned he didn’t have to do anything anymore. That was the beauty of having his mind to himself. Tony was still his to protect.  
  
  
  


* * *

* * *

  
  
  
  
Bucky continued to refuse to answer their questions about how he resisted Zemo’s commands. Protecting Tony was more important than his freedom. Oh, he could have escaped, but he found he couldn’t do that to Steve again. He still didn’t remember much from the time before the war, but he remembered the feelings. 

The trial started, and given this, it was going about as well as Bucky expected. Which was to say, not well at all. The prosecution had the Hydra data dump as evidence, and witness after witness who claimed he had killed their loved ones. Harvey always counter-examined and drilled home the point that it was because of the men pulling Bucky’s strings that their loved ones died, but it felt like too little too late. The prosecution even had Zemo testifying about how the commands hadn’t worked on that fateful day.

And then one day, right in the beginning of the defense, one of Harvey’s paralegals handed him a slip of paper, and he asked for a recess of a couple hours. It was granted, and Bucky was taken to a cell, wondering all the time what was going on.

The trial resumed for the day, and Harvey called the expected, brainwashing expert witness. By the end of the day, the witness was under cross-examination, but she wasn’t saying anything shocking. It was going exactly how Harvey said it would.

Oddly enough considering his life and freedom were on the line, Bucky was finding the whole process tedious. The prosecution hammered home his actions, and the defense hammered home his lack of agency. Rinse, repeat.

So, when the pattern changed with that note, and at the end of the day Bucky wasn’t led to his cell but to an interview room, he knew something big was up, and his gut clenched. Inside was Harvey, as expected, and a second man who was standing with his back to the door.

As the door closed, the guy turned around, and it was Tony. Shocked, Bucky hissed, “What are you doing here?”

Tony leaned against the wall seemingly casually, and nonchalantly said, “Saving your ass. Why didn’t you mention me before? I’ve been waiting for the call from your defense team, and lo and behold it never came. I finally tracked them down myself, and were they shocked by my existence, let me tell you.”

Shaking hard in his anger, all Bucky could do was clench his fists and stalk towards Tony. “You shouldn’t have done that! You’ll never be safe now!”

Tony lost the casual pose and got right in Bucky’s face. “Are you out of your mind? I’m a federal agent, I’m never safe! What the hell!”

“But not because of me!”

Understanding crossed Tony’s face, and then his hands grasped Bucky’s neck and the electricity danced even more joyfully along his synapses. It was as distracting as it had been originally and much better than the faint traces of it he’d been feeling for the last two years. Bucky’s eyes fluttered closed of their own volition. Tony said, “I’d rather be with you and in danger, than alone and safe. I will always choose you, asshole.”

Defeated, quietly, Bucky said, “You shouldn’t have to make that choice.”

“Life isn’t fair. You should know that more than anyone.”

Harvey said, “As touching as this is, we have a lot to cover. Please sit down.”

Bucky glared at him, but at a tug from Tony, settled at the table with Tony sitting next to him. Harvey gave him a speaking look, and continued, “So, as you can imagine it took us awhile to take Tony seriously. You should have told us.”

“I didn’t want him involved.”

Tony glared at Bucky. “That’s not your decision.”

Bucky didn’t know what to say in response so he glared some more, but Tony just said, “Stop pouting at me and accept my involvement. I’m not leaving. I’ll go to the press if I have to.”

At a loss, Bucky just mumbled, “I’m not pouting,” but he was feeling overwhelmed at all the support. First Steve standing up for him, and now Tony stepping up. It was hard to accept that he wasn’t alone. Part of him was still planning ways to break out and go back into hiding.

Harvey said, “Now that that is settled, how about we go over how you guys met and Tony’s possible testimony.”

Tony grinned and said, “Well, that’s a funny story,” and Bucky groaned. There was nothing funny about strangling your soulmate. Tony was going to be the death of him.  
  
  
  


* * *

* * *

  
  
  
  
Tony was added to the list of witnesses, but Harvey just called him a character witness, and the prosecutor didn’t question the addition, probably figuring there was no one Bucky’s defense team could come up with that would top having Captain America as a character witness. 

As Bucky’s defense team went through testimony from brainwashing experts, Hydra flunkies, and Steve, Bucky fretted about Tony’s upcoming turn. He had tried again to convince Tony not to testify, but Tony talked him around instead. Bucky just couldn’t say no to him when he pointed out this was their only opportunity to be together, and Tony wanted to take that shot. Bucky wanted it too, more than he wanted to escape and hide again. To be able to live freely with Tony? To have someone who wanted to be with him, someone who knew everything and still felt lucky that they got Bucky as a soulmate? It would be a miracle to get, but worth it in the end.

The day Tony was called to the stand Bucky was a ball of nerves. It was only a little because of Tony’s testimony and how it might help him, but more because of how people might begin treating Tony now that he was going to reveal that Bucky was his soulmate. Tony pledged to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, and settled in the witness chair.

Harvey stood and approached him and asked for basic information like his name and occupation. Tony responded easily and seemed relaxed and calm. Bucky didn’t know how he could be so nonchalant, but Tony was working it. Then Harvey asked, “How do you know the defendant?”

And Bucky held his breath as Tony looked over at him. Tony said, “I met the defendant after the fall of SHIELD in D.C. I thought he was a looter because he looked rough and we tussled. When we touched, I discovered he was my soulmate.”

And then Tony paused as if waiting for his words to sink in, and the room went silent and then exploded in sound. Tony remained calm, as did Harvey, and Bucky didn’t take his eyes off Tony. Tony was like the eye of a storm. He suddenly knew he could survive this if Tony was there.

As the judges called for quiet, the room finally died down to a dull murmur. Harvey surveyed Tony again and asked, “And then what happened?”

“Bucky was stunned and confused. He didn’t know what was happening. I explained and invited him inside where it was warmer and less exposed. He was still wary and hesitant, but curious. Eventually he relaxed a bit, and since I had been working double shifts due to the SHIELD and Hydra mess, I crashed and he left in the morning. He was still scared and wary, so I could tell he wouldn’t stay. I didn’t hear from him again, but when I saw the news about his trial, I knew I had to step forward.”

Harvey asked some other leading questions, and as Tony talked Bucky’s eyes drifted to the prosecutor’s table, and he saw them writing furiously and whispering together. It was obvious they weren’t expecting this, and Bucky felt a ray of hope for the first time.

Finally, toward the end of the afternoon, Harvey was finished with his examination of Tony, and it was time for cross-examination. The prosecutor stood up and asked for a recess to prepare their questions. Since it was late, the judges agreed and everyone stood to rush out of the court and reveal the news that Bucky had a soulmate. Unfortunately, Bucky was taken to his cell since Harvey and Tony had to prepare for cross-examination.

The next morning Tony retook the stand, and the prosecutor tried their hardest to grill Tony and show him in a bad light, but Tony was smooth and clever and seemed to cut off avenues of interrogation even before they occurred. It was obvious as the day wore on that the prosecution were getting frustrated with Tony’s testimony as they became more aggressive and offensive, but Tony never lost his cool. It was a masterful performance.

Bucky knew he would have to take the stand too, but he was now feeling more confident that he could withstand it with Tony there to support him. He already felt calmer and more hopeful than he had before Tony showed up. 

As the prosecutor got increasingly frustrated, Harvey upped his objections and pretty soon the head judge was putting the prosecutor on notice for going over the line. The prosecutor looked ready to spit nails. It was a nice change from his smugness with all the family members of the Winter Soldier’s victims.

The day ended, but the prosecutor didn’t admit defeat, so Tony would have to take the stand the next day as well. Thankfully, Bucky was brought in to see Harvey and Tony again, so he got to take the pulse of his defense team. Harvey was actually smiling for once, and Tony looked relaxed, even after a full day of testimony.

Tony smiled at Bucky as he was led in, and Harvey said, “Okay, sit down everyone. We need to hammer out some details.”

Tony patted the seat next to him, as if Bucky would sit anywhere else, and even put his arm out along the back of Bucky’s chair, which was a comforting warmth against his back.

Harvey then began grilling Bucky about the past three years and his mental state during it, and his feelings towards Tony. He opened up about the electricity in his brain breaking the ice and fog, how Tony was a motivation for him, and how it even prevented brainwashing when Zemo tried to do it.

By the end of the grueling session, Bucky was hoarse, but Harvey looked as happy as Bucky had ever seen him. Harvey said, “I have two brainwashing experts lined up that will support Bucky’s testimony that the soul bond can interfere with brainwashing. Add that to Bucky’s testimony and remorse, and I feel that we finally have a solid case that you were also a victim of Hydra, and all your actions were against your will. That doesn’t mean we’ll win, but at least now we have a chance.”

Bucky almost apologized for not revealing Tony’s presence and making Tony come forward himself, but at the last moment held his tongue. Even if the outcome was turning out to be for the best, he didn’t think he would have done it differently. Because the positive side was that Bucky got off, but Tony still had to live with the stigma of being Bucky’s soulmate. Bucky would save him from that if he could (and if Tony would let him.)

Finally, Harvey was done grilling him, and said, “Okay, I’ll put on headphones for five minutes and give you guys some privacy.”

Bucky blinked in surprise. He hadn’t expected to be alone with Tony so soon. He turned to Tony with curiosity, and a bit of trepidation.

Tony turned to him with a smile, and said, “Well, so far I like our follow-up meetings better than our first, but that’s partly because I’m not getting my ass kicked.”

Bucky grimaced. “Yeah, I never said sorry for that.”

“No worries. Once I put two and two together and figured out who you were, I knew things were complicated.” 

Snorting, Bucky said, “Complicated, right. Or completely fucked up.”

Tony moved his hand to touch Bucky’s shoulder. “Hey, yeah, fucked up is true too, but you’re free of that now. Maybe not free entirely, but we’re doing everything we can.”

“I’m not worried about being free, I’m worried about you.”

“I told you, I can take care of myself.”

“I shouldn’t be a burden on you.”

“Do you consider me a burden? Would you prefer to have never met me?”

Bucky wanted to lie and say yes, but he couldn’t when Tony was looking at him straight in the eye. He shook his head.

Tony pulled him into a loose hug. “That goes double for me. I have been waiting to meet my soulmate forever. To finally have it happened was the best day of my life. Sure, things are complicated and fucked up, but they’re not irreversibly so.”

“If you say so.”

“I do. Best day, all right?”

Too choked up for words, Bucky just nodded. 

Harvey then took off his headphones, and said, “Times up, boys. Get some rest, Tony. The prosecution is going to come out all guns blazing tomorrow.”

“I can handle them. I’m an experienced witness.”  
  
  
  


* * *

* * *

  
  
  
  
The prosecution did come out aggressive with unrelenting questions the next day, but Tony continued to masterfully twist everything they said into a positive or used it to make them look insensitive and cruel. Bucky didn’t know how he did it, but it was heartening. Maybe he and Tony would get to be together after all.

Finally, the prosecution gave up and allowed Tony to step down, and it was obvious how frustrated they were by him. It was kind of funny, actually. Bucky would be gloating except he was up next, and he knew there was no way he could do what Tony had just done. He was a ball of nerves and remorse.

The next day, it was Bucky’s turn. He was finally used to wearing the suits Harvey had been dressing him in, but today the tie felt restrictive in the way that his mask had felt while he was the Soldier. It was a disconcerting feeling, and it was all he could do not to tug on the tie. He was called to the stand and he kept his face as passive as he could even though his heart was rabbiting. It didn’t calm down until he walked past Tony who touched his hand briefly. Even that small touch was enough to calm his heart. Tony gave him hope and fortitude.

He had been prepped, so he knew Harvey wasn’t going to go easy on him. Harvey was hoping that by going through Bucky’s brainwashed actions first, he would take the wind out of the prosecution’s sails. If all the shocking incidences are discussed under Harvey’s direction, there’ll be nothing for the prosecution to hang their hat on except the families’ testimonials, and Harvey had already pointed the judges to the real culprits of the deaths who had pointed Bucky’s trigger finger.

Still, even expecting it, he was hoarse and drained by the end of the day, and Harvey was maybe halfway through Bucky’s testimony. He never bothered looking at the judges to see how they were taking his statements. He just kept his gaze glued to Tony’s understanding eyes and found the courage there to continue detailing the horrors done to him and done by him.

Still, when the lead judge ordered a halt to the day’s proceedings, Bucky was glad. He would be even happier if he got to spend five minutes with Tony. He was beginning to see the benefits of Tony’s hugs, and felt he could really use one now.

Thus, he was really happy when he was directed towards one of the interrogation rooms where he usually met Harvey and Tony. He was barely inside the room and the door closed behind him before he felt Tony’s arms around him and he slumped in relief. It was a welcome minute he got to spend feeling Tony’s strength holding him up, and Tony’s voice murmuring encouragements in his ear.

Still, way too soon, Harvey was saying, “Okay, now that you’ve both had your moment, we need to get down to work.”

Sighing, and placing his forehead against Tony’s shoulder for another brief moment, Bucky pulled away and went to sit across from Harvey. Tony was a second behind him, but he found it easier to focus on Harvey after the hug from Tony, even as short as it was.

Harvey walked him through his testimony and what he had done well and what had been possible mistakes, and finally, what he should focus on in the next day’s testimony. It was a long two hours or so, on top of an exhausting day, so while Bucky was glad to feel Tony’s fingers on his neck and his thigh next to his, he was drooping by the time they finished and he was led back to his cell.

Not so surprisingly, he had nightmares that night, and looked haggard for the next day’s testimony. Harvey tutted at him, but upon hearing Bucky’s curt response of, “nightmares,” only whispered back, “It might work for us.” 

Bucky didn’t want to even think about what that meant, and instead focused on Tony’s face again as Harvey began asking more detailed questions about his brainwashing, torture, and his feelings around the killings he was ordered to do.

He made it through the day, barely. His voice was raspy as he dredged up memory after memory of horrific acts he committed and the feelings of remorse and deadness he felt as a result of them. All the words spilling out of him actually helped him understand his past more, oddly enough. It wasn’t the arena to unpack it, but man, he could see why the modern world was so enamored of therapy. He definitely needed someone to work through his past with. It was too big on its own. While uncovering and remembering details had been important these last four years, it wasn’t nearly enough to cope.

Finally, the day ended and Harvey closed his questioning. He was again taken to an interrogation room so Harvey could prep him for the prosecution’s cross examination, but got another hug from Tony which made the extra work bearable.

The next day was the clincher for his case. If he could withstand the prosecution’s questions, he might actually make it out of this with his freedom, if not his sanity (it felt like). He already felt raw and exposed, after tomorrow he would probably be emotionally flayed.

It didn’t start off well. All the anger and frustration the prosecution had built up trying to get something out of Tony seemed evident in their first hour’s questions which were aggressive and borderline inexcusably confrontational. The lead judge finally stepped in after the fifth of Harvey’s objections were raised.

Then it didn’t exactly get easier, but Bucky was treated marginally better, which was enough for him to relax slightly and focus on Tony again instead of the prosecutor’s angry face. He wasn’t off-guard, but he did relax his shoulders from the tension holding them high, and focus on answering with as much honesty and emotion as he felt comfortable doing. This was Harvey’s idea to humanize him as a tortured person, not a killing machine. It was hard, but he didn’t feel so under attack and it was becoming easier and easier. He could even get in the occasional answer that frustrated the prosecutor the way Tony had.

He felt good about those.

The day ended, but the prosecution wanted to continue their cross examination, so Bucky knew he would be in for it the next day too. Unfortunately Harvey had him pulled into the interrogation room to again go over his testimony, and for the third night in a row, Bucky was barely standing as he was finally led to his cell he was so tired. Amazingly he didn’t remember any nightmares the next morning, just vague unease and restless sleep, but at least he got some rest and felt better able to withstand the cross-examination today.

The prosecutor really focused on his actions and that it was his finger pulling the trigger and killing all those people. Bucky didn’t dispute this, he never had, he just kept reiterating that there were people pulling his strings who were more to blame for the deaths than he was. He didn’t play up the victim angle the way Harvey told him to though. He hated feeling that way and wouldn’t hide behind the brainwashing completely. So, he just reiterated he was felt regret and horror now but was programmed to not care beforehand, but didn’t call himself a victim. He knew he was playing mental games, but it allowed him to remain calm.

It was another long day, and Bucky was dispirited when the prosecution asked for a third day for cross-examination, but wasn’t completely surprised by it. They hadn’t even asked about Steve or Tony yet. Harvey was mostly pleased with the way things were going, so he only had Bucky out for another hour after testimony, before allowing him to be led to his cell to rest for the next day.  
  
  
  


* * *

* * *

  
  
  
  
After Bucky’s third day or testimony and closing arguments, the panel of judges deliberated for five days. They were the longest days of Bucky’s crazy long life. He didn’t get to see any visitors or get to debrief with Harvey after the third day, so couldn’t even get a final hug from Tony afterwards or during the deliberation period. He was plagued with nightmares of death and destruction, but also of being locked up and trapped in a small cell. He felt claustrophobic for the second time in his life (the first being the first time he was cryo-frozen), imagining what was in store for him if it didn’t go well.

When he was finally brought back to the courtroom, he searched frantically for Tony first, and was relieved to see him standing behind the counter separating the room from Bucky’s chair. Bucky almost stumbled in his rush to get to Tony, but he was held to a slow pace by his shackles. Tony smiled at him, and briefly touched Bucky’s shoulder as Bucky was encouraged to sit and his shackles attached to the desk in front of him.

He didn’t fight it, that touch was enough to see him through whatever happened next, even if it was a dank cell somewhere in the Atlantic as the prosecution promised.

The lead judge, Michels, called the room to order, and then looked directly at Bucky. He said, “After deep deliberation and careful consideration, this panel finds the defendant, James B. Barnes, not guilty of all charges.”

The room broke out in shouts and tussles as reporters rushed from the room to be the first to report the verdict, but Bucky didn’t take his eyes off Michels, although Harvey slumped slightly next to him, so Bucky guessed Harvey wasn’t as sure as he had acted most of the time since Tony had come forward.

Once Michels had banged his gavel for order and the room was again silent, he continued, “Because of the severe torture undergone by the defendant for decades he is deemed not accountable for the actions orchestrated by his handlers. This panel would be more than happy to consider cases against those agents.”

Bucky’s gaze flickered to the prosecutor’s bench where they were whispering furiously and looked shocked, but then went back to the judges’ panel just as Michels said, “The defendant is free to go. Bailiff, please remove the shackles.”

In his own stunned disbelieve, Bucky watched as the bailiff came over with his keys jangling and directed Bucky to sit in his chair, so he could first unlock the shackles holding his legs and then released his hands. Distractedly Bucky noticed his hands were shaking and was glad he had been directed to sit down for the shackles to be removed, because at this point, he wasn’t sure his legs would hold him up anymore.

Standing back up a free man, he looked at Tony, as the room again broke out into shouts and whispers, and he was glad he had because Tony was simply beaming at him. It was the most glorious sight he had ever seen. He lips curled up slightly in response, but it was merely a flicker and not at all representative of how jubilant he felt inside. He got to be with Tony free and clear. It was an amazing feeling. His gaze slid to Steve who was hugging his friend Sam, and then Harvey was shaking his hand, and saying, “You’ve just given me the win of the century, I hope you know.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, but smiled at Harvey’s joking tone. “Glad my freedom was worth something, I guess.” Harvey barked out a laugh and clapped him on the shoulder. 

Bucky looked back at Tony and then realized he didn’t have to stand on the other side of the wooden divide any more. Tony was still smiling at him, and as Bucky moved towards him, Tony jumped over the divide to meet him halfway. Bucky threw himself into Tony’s arms, and Tony just held him tight for long minutes. Flashbulbs went off but Bucky didn’t care. And then Tony was kissing him and electricity was dancing in his brain and he melted into the embrace even further. He knew he had a long road of recovery ahead of him, but he had hope finally with Tony in his arms.


End file.
